


i'll put you on your feet

by cenli



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 3rd year high school/first year college Kagehinas, A Week of Kagehina, Aged-Up Character(s), Hinata is a good person and a great friend, Hurt/Comfort, Kageyama gets injured and can never play volleyball again, M/M, Major Character Injury, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cenli/pseuds/cenli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Teenagers all think they're invincible,”</i> adults say. <i>“They think their actions don't have consequences. They think they can do anything.”</i></p><p>Tobio never thought that. He may have promised it, once, to an orange-haired boy who would someday mean the world to him, but he didn't think of in terms of himself.</p><p>So he was surprised when he collapsed mid-game halfway through the inter-high, clutching his knee and groaning and shutting his eyes against the sting of tears.</p><div class="center">
  <p> - </p>
</div>Written for A Week of Kagehina Day 8: Invincible/Free day<br/>This is a fic about the recovery process from a life-altering injury (but it's basically Hinata being an amazing person and a good friend).
            </blockquote>





	i'll put you on your feet

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to ["Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Phillips](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GV2yMnzWkkc) a lot while I was writing this, so the quotes at the beginning/end are from that song (and I guess you could say it's a songfic, but not entirely?). 
> 
> I liked the idea of Hinata being there for Kageyama even if Kageyama doesn't really want him there, even if Kageyama pushes him away. Good (boy)friend Hinata Shouyou 2k15.

 

 

_You're my back bone._

_You're my cornerstone._

_You're my crutch when my legs stop moving._

 

 

“Teenagers all think they're invincible,” adults say. “They think their actions don't have consequences. They think they can do anything.”

 

-

 

Tobio never thought that. He may have promised it, once, to an orange-haired boy who would someday mean the world to him, but he didn't think of in terms of himself. He knew his own fragility, so at seventeen he took better care of himself than most, almost impeccable care in fact. He ate well, exercised often, took vitamins and protein supplements, and tried his hardest to get enough sleep—which was difficult when he was juggling being vice-captain of his high school volleyball team, trying to get decent enough grades for his mother to not kick his ass, and making the trek out to Tokyo twice a week to play with the Japanese Men's Under-20 volleyball team. He wasn't a starter—or even a recognized player, but he got to watch their games and practice with them and received praise from their coaches and that was enough. The fire in his eyes was there from day one. Tobio was so ready to be a professional volleyball player. It was everything he'd ever dreamed of. It was everything he wanted in life.

 

So, at seventeen, he took care of himself. He ate well (though he might miss a meal here and there, because food isn't often first on his mind while he's taking the bullet train back from Tokyo at midnight on a Tuesday trying to finish his calculus homework), exercised often (waking up at ass o'clock in the morning to run for two hours before he even got to school for another two hours of volleyball, then another three hours of volleyball in the afternoon followed by an hour of lifting weights in his room at night), took vitamins and protein supplements (he thought six pills a day would be enough, but he still felt sore when he woke up most mornings), and tried his hardest to get enough sleep (though he can't remember a night he that got more than five hours since the start of third year).

 

Tobio took care of himself, so he was surprised when he collapsed mid-game halfway through the inter-high, clutching his knee and groaning and shutting his eyes against the sting of tears.

 

He doesn't remember Hinata screaming his name and trying to roll him over, only the white-hot pain when his leg was jostled in the process.

 

He doesn't remember the ambulance ride and how he let sobs wrack his body when the pain meds hit, and Hinata had panicked and asked the paramedic if he was dying because he'd never seen him do that before. Even after their most painful losses, Tobio had always cried quietly.

 

He doesn't remember x-rays and hushed conversations and how he'd clutched at his jersey when they'd told him he needed to remove it, because being asked to take off that black-and-orange number two felt like being asked to shed a layer of his skin.

 

 

He remembers waking up to his mother and Hinata talking quietly to a doctor in the doorway of his hospital room.

 

He remembers hearing Hinata punch the wall in the hallway and the nurse chastising him, her words harsh though there was sympathy in her eyes.

 

He remembers the words “never play again,” though he wishes he could forget.

 

-

 

Shouyou had ridden with Kageyama to the hospital, but he'd had to go back soon after. The game could only be postponed for so long. He'd gone back and Karasuno finished the match and managed to scrape a victory, though the entire team’s faces were ashen and the win was difficult without their vice-captain and star setter. Shouyou celebrated as best as he could, clapping the trembling first-year setter (who'd never expected to actually play) on the back.

 

The bus ride back that night was sullen, and Ukai dismissed them without his usual post-game critique. He pulled Shouyou aside and told him not to spend the night at the hospital. They had another game tomorrow, and it would be difficult without their starting setter, but impossible if their ace was sleep-deprived and stressed.

 

Shouyou had nodded dumbly, then walked away from the worry in Ukai's eyes. He'd nodded again as Yamaguchi gripped his arm and echoed the sentiments.

 

“...If anything, I should go see him. I'm our captain, after all.”

 

Shouyou blinked at him. Yamaguchi never pulled rank. Never brought up that he was captain unless he was pushed, but Yamaguchi's eyes were steel, and his grip was tight. _Don't do anything stupid_ , he was saying. _We need you. Kageyama will still be there after we win at Nationals._

 

Shouyou promised he'd only check up on Kageyama, then go straight home and get a good night’s sleep. He managed a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

 

“Should I physically stop him?” Yamaguchi murmured, running a hand through his hair as he watched Hinata’s small figure retreat toward the bike sheds. Tsukishima shrugged.

 

“You know Hinata. Once he gets an idea in his head, he won't listen to anyone.”

 

 

Shouyou didn't sleep at the hospital that night, but it wasn't for lack of wanting to. He had listened as the doctor told Kageyama's mother that he would definitely need surgery. He would be lucky if he could walk without hindrance in the future. He would never play professional volleyball.

 

He listened as the doctor described how Kageyama had obviously been overexerting himself for at least a year—probably longer; how his body was nutritionally starved and exhausted; how he was surprised this hadn't happened sooner.

 

“Your son has immense pain tolerance, ma'am. I am amazed he was able to walk with the state of his knees, let alone play volleyball.”

 

Shouyou listened as the doctor spoke and Kageyama’s mother began to cry and he punched the wall because he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the strain Kageyama was putting himself under.

 

He’d punched the wall and immediately regret it, wondering if they would let him play in the match tomorrow with bruised and bloody knuckles.

 

Of course they would. They didn’t have a choice. They couldn’t win without him.

 

He'd let the nurse clean and bandage his hand, flexing it stiffly to make sure he could still spike. Kageyama's mother had insisted on driving him home after that, ignoring his protests of “it’s one o’clock in the morning, anyway, and what if Kageyama needs help?”

 

“We can’t help him right now, Shouyou-kun. We can support him as best we can, but this is Tobio’s fight. He would want you to play your best tomorrow, though.”

 

 

Even with Shouyou and his bruised knuckles, Karasuno lost their first match of the day and all three third-years bit back tears. They had made it to the semi-finals, but lost to a revived Johzenji High. The first-year setter tried to apologize but everyone waved him away. It wasn't his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

 

“Sometimes the other team is just better.”

 

Ukai offered them the opportunity to stay in Sendai and watch the rest of the day's matches, but the team shook their heads, shooting worried glances at their upperclassmen.

 

Tsukishima had his music blasting and his eyes closed, but there was wrinkle in his usually-impassive brow.

 

Yamaguchi stared at the floor.

 

Shouyou’s arms were stiff, fists clenched, white-knuckled and angry at his sides.

 

_We would have been better if you’d been there._

Shouyou went to the hospital that afternoon and found Kageyama awake, staring at the wall opposite his bed, eyes glazed with lack of sleep and pain medication. Shouyou knocked on the doorframe hesitantly and Kageyama’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t turn his head.

 

“You lost, didn't you?” Kageyama’s voice was quiet, emotionless. “You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. You’d be in Sendai, getting warmed up for the finals.”

 

“Ah, yeah, Johzenji was difficult. They commit-blocked me, and Miyuchi tried his best with the quick, but he still needs work.”

 

Kageyama flinched at the mention of the other setter, his mouth settling into a thin line.

 

“I'm sor—”

 

“Let’s not do this right now.” Shouyou shook his head, stepping forward so he was right next to Kageyama's bed. “You need to concentrate on getting better. We can talk about ‘what ifs’ and whatever later.”

 

Kageyama looked pointedly at Shouyou's hand, the bandages stained with dots of red. “You know there's no getting better. You know it's over for me.” His voice was strained, his eyes wet. “God, I was so stupid.”

 

Shouyou swallowed the lump in his throat, a wave of anger swamping him.

 

“Yeah, you kinda were. What were you thinking? How long have you been wearing a brace under your kneepads? How long have you been pushing yourself so hard?” His voice was rising higher, anger and frustration and worry piling up until he was almost yelling.

 

“How long have you been in constant pain? How could you do this to yourself? To your team? Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

 

“You think I don't know?” Kageyama snapped, eyes flashing. He leaned toward Shouyou as best he could from his sitting position on the bed. He tried to be threatening, but he just looked pained.

 

“You think that isn’t all I've been able to think about since the second I woke up? You think I don’t realize how much I’ve fucked up my life?”

 

Kageyama's voice dropped to a strangled whisper, collapsing in on himself.

 

“I have nothing anymore, Hinata. Nothing.”

 

Shouyou twisted his hands in front of him, wondering if he should try to comfort Kageyama. Did he want to be touched right now? Probably not. Kageyama wasn’t the hugging type even on his happiest days, but he looked broken now.

 

Broken and alone.

 

He settled for letting one of his hands rest on Kageyama's forearm, so light it barely flattened the stiff material of the hospital gown.

 

“You don’t have nothing. The team is still behind you. Your mom is right outside. You can get the surgery and prove them all wrong and play volleyball again, and—”

 

“My future is over. I've already lost all my scholarships. I'll be out for at least a year, probably longer.” Kageyama let out a bark of mirthless laughter that made Shouyou stiffen uncomfortably. “No one wants a damaged setter.”

 

He watched Kageyama's eyes swim under the harsh hospital lighting.

 

“Everything I ever wanted. Everything I worked for. It’s all gone.”

 

Shouyou only tightened his grip on Kageyama's forearm.

 

How could he argue with the truth?

 

-

 

“You have to go.”

 

“I don’t want to. Osaka is too far, anyway. I don’t know why I accepted in the first place.”

 

Tobio felt like hitting him.

 

“Because it’s a full-ride! Because it’s a great team! Because that is what we worked our asses off for three years for!”

 

Hinata shrugged. “There's no point without you.”

 

-

 

“I don't want him here.”

 

“Tobio! He's your friend!”

 

“No. He was my teammate, and I don't have a team anymore.”

 

“Don't be rude—”

 

“No, it's alright. I'm sorry for the intrusion.”

 

Tobio couldn’t meet Hinata's eyes. He almost choked on the emotion in the other boy’s voice. So thoughtful; so cautious. It made him feel sick.

 

He yelled at the wall next to Hinata's head, instead.

 

“Just get out!”

 

-

 

The day of their high school graduation, Shouyou walked across the stage and bowed and smiled and took pictures with his family. He went out for meat buns with his team for probably the last time, though he promised to come visit as often as possible. He poked fun at the fact Tsukishima’s robes were too short and kissed Yachi on the cheek, making her blush profusely. He smiled as hard as he could because he wanted to remember this day as happily as possible.

 

The day of their high school graduation, Tobio took three shaky steps and then collapsed against the physical therapy bars. It had been three months since the volleyball game, and two and a half months since he’d had surgery on both his knees. It had been two weeks since he’d screamed at Hinata, and the same number of weeks since the other boy had come to visit. He took three shaky steps and collapsed against the bars and cried angry, frustrated tears. He had cried more in the last three months than he had since he was an infant, but he had stopped caring.

 

-

 

The day after their high school graduation, Hinata marched into Tobio’s physical therapy, looking more determined than the day he’d promised Tobio that he would beat him. This time he promised to help him, whether he wanted the help or not.

 

Hinata pushed a college application into his hands and said that it was never too early to start applying for next year.

 

Hinata forced him to eat his vegetables, because “milk isn't nutritious enough on its own, Kageyama-kun.”

 

Hinata held his hand when they fit him for a new brace and Tobio felt the white-hot pain of his still-healing joint being poked and prodded. Hinata shook out his crushed hand and winced when he thought Tobio wasn’t looking.

 

Hinata bullied and chastised and encouraged him through weeks of physical therapy, coming in whenever he wasn’t in college classes or working part-time at Ukai’s store.

 

(Hinata’s parents had been more than a little upset when he'd passed up a full-ride to a decent university to take courses part-time at the local school, but they knew it was useless to argue. When Hinata decided something, he didn’t change his mind.)

 

(Tobio knew this, as well, but he still yelled at Hinata for an hour when Hinata told him the news. Hinata listened, face unreadable, and then told him he was saving his first year math classes for next year, so they could struggle through them together.)

 

(Because they tackled hardship better together.)

 

(Because they were better together.)

 

-

 

After six months of physical therapy, Kageyama could walk on his own for the most part, but would tire easily. His muscles were softer than they had been before, and he’d lost weight (despite Shouyou almost force-feeding him vegetables and protein whenever he was around), but he seemed happier. Shouyou caught his small smiles of triumph when he was able to walk the length of the physical therapy room unaided for the first time; when he was able to fetch milk for himself from the vending machine down the hall at the hospital when he went in for his biweekly check-up; when he was able to walk down to the centre of town and visit Shouyou when he was working (though his knee began to throb, and he had to use Shouyou as a crutch on the way home, much to his annoyance and Shouyou’s not-so-subtle amusement).

 

 

Shouyou had started playing with the neighborhood association, just a few nights a week, but it felt good to move his body again. To play the sport he had lived for during high school, and now barely had time to think about.

 

He had considered not telling Kageyama about it, but after Kageyama saw the tell-tale bruises on his knees, and how Shouyou’s hands were red from where callouses had started to heal, Shouyou had told him, mumbling apologies and unable to make eye-contact.

 

He’d expected Kageyama to be angry, but instead he’d said he wanted to come. Or, more accurately, said he was going to come whether he liked it or not. (“I can be determined, too, Hinata.”)

 

“If you strain yourself now, you might never heal fully—”

 

“I won't play if you don't think I should.” Kageyama sounded desperate, a pleading tone in his usually forceful voice. “Just let me come watch. Please.”

 

-

 

Tobio brought his crutches with him, but barely needed to use them. The neighborhood association practiced in the local college’s gym, but Hinata dragged him to the cafeteria building so he could show him the vending machine that sold the exact milk box brand that Tobio loved. Tobio flushed at the concept of Hinata remembering something so insignificant.

 

Hinata shrugged, turning red himself, and muttered, “You remember things about the people you care about.”

 

At their practice, Tobio sat on the bench and watched as Hinata leapt around the court, his eyes alight and concentrated in a way that made Tobio's heart ache. He had wanted to watch the entire team’s maneuvers so he could critique them later, but he ended up reminiscing about high school more than anything.

 

Hinata came over after an hour of practice, drenched in sweat and smiling.

 

“Toss to me.”

 

“How exactly, dumbass? I can barely move.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. I'll do all the moving. Just come stand by the net.”

 

Tobio shook his head and grumbled, but his hands were shaking. What if he couldn't do it? What if his body had forgotten?

 

He walked unsteadily over to the net, feeling the familiar, flat surface of a gym floor against his feet. He touched the net softly, his mind flooding with memories: some bittersweet, and others just bitter.

 

“Bring it on!”

 

Tobio whipped his head around. Hinata was running toward the net, and suddenly a ball was being thrown to him gently by one of the neighborhood association members. Tobio crouched instinctively and felt his knee twinge. His fingers shaped into a triangle, hands almost touching. The ball came to rest for the barest second, before he pushed it carefully in the direction of Hinata's voice.

 

He turned when he heard the smack of the ball against the gym floor, and saw the excitement shining in Hinata's eyes and he knew that same excitement was reflected in his own.

 

 

That night, Tobio had leaned heavily on his crutches while he was walking home, but his body felt light. The sound of the ball hitting the court was still fresh in his mind, and Hinata’s arm supporting him around his waist was warm.

 

He paused outside his door and Hinata stopped beside him. Tobio felt quizzical eyes light on the side of his face.

 

“Kageyama?”

 

“Thank you...for everything.”

 

Tobio reached over, hesitating slightly before resting his hand on Hinata's shoulder.

 

“I...I mean it.”

 

Hinata tilted his head so his cheek was resting on Kageyama's hand, smiling softly.

 

“I know.”

 

 

_You're my head start._

_You're my rugged heart._

_You're the pulse that I've always needed._

 


End file.
